


Midsummer's Eve

by Caiternate



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F, Humor, Margaery and Loras being queer and adorable, Masquerade Ball, Pre-Canon, This is why you shouldn't talk about Tyrell headcanons with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caiternate/pseuds/Caiternate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Highgarden hosts a Midsummer masquerade ball to celebrate the turn of the season. Margaery dresses as a man, seduces ladies, and makes terrible puns. Loras visits from Storm's End, is the semi-willing victim of a case of mistaken identity, and has a hickey. Garlan eats an entire plate of bacon. Mace is confused by his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midsummer's Eve

The sun had set hours ago, and the Midsummer’s Eve ball was in full swing. Mace Tyrell had made his rounds of the dance floor, rarely turning down a dance, but now the evening had caught up with him and he had retired to a seat by the wall, content to drink fine wine and watch the festivities.  
Garlan was still dancing, of course. Gallant and smiling, he was certainly one of the most sought-after dance partners.  
Mace’s other children were less easy to locate. Willas had likely already retired to his room, or else was seated on a quiet balcony, chatting with whoever could spare the time. The younger two children were probably getting up to no end of trouble in some empty wing.  
Or perhaps not.  
Across the room, against a wall, Mace caught a glimpse of curling brown hair under a large feathery hat. His first thought was Loras but that seemed odd, seeing as the youth in question was currently talking closely with a young lady in blue. All the more odd was the lack of Renly Baratheon in the immediate vicinity; ever since lord and squire had arrived in Highgarden for the Midsummer ball and tourney the two had been inseparable, and yet here was Loras, deep in conversation with this maiden wearing a low-cut sapphire dress and a necklace of glittering stones.  
Quite deep in conversation.  
Loras’s hand slipped around the girl’s waist, pulling her even closer and leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, then wound her fingers in Loras’s free hand and allowed herself to be led out of the main ballroom.  
Odd, indeed.

 

The girl’s name was Rynna, and she was a fantastic dancer. Margaery was eternally grateful for the afternoons spent practicing with her brother, making sure that she and Loras were equally capable of dancing a boy’s part and a girl’s, because one never knew. Despite his skill on the tourney field, which was legendary already at the age of 16, Loras’s dancing was left in the dust by Rynna, who spun and sidestepped and swirled while still keeping up enthralling conversation. If she noticed that Margaery’s hands were unusually long and slender or that her voice was too high for the boy that she was impersonating, she didn’t let on.  
“Perhaps we might sit this one out, ser?” Rynna said breathlessly, drawn close to Margaery after a particularly fast-paced dance.  
“Certainly, milady.” Margaery smiled under her feathered mask and led Rynna to one side of the room.  
As the conversation progressed, Margaery became more sure that Rynna had guessed her secret, and yet the other girl did not seem to be in any particular rush to run screaming from the room. If anything, she became more flirtatious with every passing song. Finally Margaery gathered her courage and leaned in closer, resting one hand on the satin waist of Rynna’s dress.  
“Milady, would you be interested in finding somewhere a little more secluded to finish this conversation?”  
Rynna smiled, blue eyes sparkling, and instead of replying, took Margaery’s free hand and walked out of the nearest door, still swaying slightly to the music.  
As the pair slipped from the room, Margaery’s eyes caught a large figure sitting against the far wall and she was almost sure that her father saw her, too. She did not acknowledge his gaze, hoping that the clothes borrowed from her brother would be enough to hide her identity. She tightened her fingers around Rynna’s and hurried out of the room.

 

The next morning, Margaery crept from her bedroom at daybreak and found her brother training in a courtyard. As soon as he noticed her waiting, he set aside his sword and walked over to her.  
“You’re up early. Did last night not go as well as planned?”  
“Better” Margaery said with a wicked grin. “But father may have spotted me. With any luck, though, he thought I was you. So I’ll need your help.”  
Loras sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was sticking to his forehead with the effort of the morning’s practice.  
“Alright, I suppose. Who was it?”  
“Rynna Hewett, she wore a blue gown. There’s no chance anyone saw you somewhere else at the same time, of course?”  
“Not unless they were looking extremely hard somewhere they ought not to be looking. Renly and I were elsewhere.” Loras rubbed his neck absently, drawing Margaery’s attention to a small dark spot in an exceedingly odd place for a combat-induced bruise. Clearly, Margaery wasn’t the only one who would benefit from a cover story.  
“Very well. Again, thank you. I’ll leave you to your swordplay then.” Unwilling to resist the pun, she added “Unless you had enough of that last night?”  
“Seven hells, Margaery, keep a civil tongue!” Loras groaned, but he was smiling as his sister kissed his cheek and hurried out of the courtyard, probably to find this Rynna Hewett girl, whoever she was.

On the now-rare occasions when all the Tyrells were together in Highgarden, it was an unspoken agreement that they would break their fast together, so after Loras had washed up after training he made his way to the dining hall, where his family was seated.  
Garlan had already begun to make his way through an enormous plate of bacon, but Margaery had waited for her brother and signalled for him to sit next to her. Stealing a strip of meat from his brother’s plate, he greeted his parents and grandmother and took a seat.  
“I presume everyone had an enjoyable evening last night?” Aelerie began. She had retired while the night was still young, complaining of the noise, but was happy to hear her children’s stories.  
The four children voiced their assent; Margaery simply agreed that it had been a rather magnificent evening, Willas mentioned a particularly interesting discussion about the lands across the Narrow Sea with a Dornish merchant, Garlan commented that the girls seemed to get more lovely every year.  
“Particularly Lady Fossoway” Loras muttered to Margaery, who giggled. No one had missed the fact that Garlan had danced with Leonette at least twice as much as all the other ladies combined.  
“And you, Loras?” Mace asked, though he was glancing at his daughter. “I thought I saw you speaking to one of Lord Hewett’s granddaughters.”  
“Yes, Rynna. We...talked. She was an excellent dancer.” He hoped the innuendo would be sufficent to dissuade his father’s suspicion.  
His mother raised an eyebrow, Garlan snickered, and Olenna never broke eye contact with Margaery, whose eyes were fixed on her plate, but Mace seemed appeased.  
“That’s my boy!” He said with a laugh and returned his attention to his plate of potatoes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I unfortunately cannot remember the source of the tumblr conversation that originally sparked the idea of Highgarden balls, but the idea for this particular fic came about through a discussion with the fabulous @bretticus1218.


End file.
